


Broken Dreams, Silent Screams

by sapphire2309



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2225211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire2309/pseuds/sapphire2309
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five year old Neal has a nightmare.<br/>Title from Bones by MS MR</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Dreams, Silent Screams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hybridshade (shimyaku)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimyaku/gifts).



> Written for hybridshade's birthday

"Dad," he whispers. It's midnight and Neal's awake and shaking from whatever terror chose to haunt his dreams. 

He's buried under a warm comforter and is still cold, so cold. Though that cold probably has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with just wanting to be held.

Nightmares had been regular visitors for as long as he could remember. His father had probably been through them himself. He always knew when to come into the room. He could tell when just laying a hand on Neal's forehead was enough, could tell when a hand just wasn't comforting enough for him. Them, he would lift Neal onto his lap and rock him back to sleep like he was just a year old.

His father was a good father. He just wasn't there.

Neal missed him often enough, but never worse than when he woke up in the middle of the night, shaking, and remembered that his father wasn't there and his mother wouldn't wake up till noon. 

Sometimes, he felt like people were trying to make his father disappear when they called him Danny, like Neal had a father and Danny didn't. 

He wouldn't mind the new name so much if his father would at least delegate somebody to take over being there for him.

He got up and left his room and the house, dragging his comforter after him. He looked both ways like Mother told him to, crossed the road, and curled up on Aunt Ellen's welcome mat. 

He probably wouldn't fall asleep again - nightmares did that sometimes. And even if he did and didn't wake up before Aunt Ellen, she wouldn't tell on him. 

He covered his nose in the comforter and wished that the night wasn't so unforgivingly cold.


End file.
